


wrap around your dreams

by urineblonde (orphan_account)



Series: night rather than day [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Stardust, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14775122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/urineblonde
Summary: Jeno makes a rash promise to his one true love. (A Stardust AU)





	wrap around your dreams

**Author's Note:**

> title from fleetwood mac's dreams and plot obviously from neil gaiman's stardust
> 
> idk what to say… this was a monster to write. I've never dealt with 1) a historical/fantasy setting and plot, 2) such a large ensemble of characters, and 3) changes in pov so please bear with me
> 
> thank you to the cc anons who prodded me. i hope it wasn't disappointing!!

_If we ride a boat from Baekdusan to Hallasan_

_Our hearts will be one as well_

_Even if we get to rest when we get tired_

_Let’s hold hands and go, let’s go together_

 

***

 

“Oh.” Donghyuck’s face had fallen when he opened the door and saw Jeno. Just before then, his face was beautifully radiant, bright as the sun. Now it looked as if a cloud was cast over him. “Don’t you ever get tired of seeking out my company?” he asks.

“Not at all,” Jeno replies with a smile. He holds out his hand for Donghyuck to take. There’s always a small rush that goes through him every time Donghyuck does touch him, a rush Jeno prays can’t be felt as thrumming in his skin. “Where shall we go today?”

“Everything’s boring,” Donghyuck says with a scowl. He lifts up his robes and sighs when a breeze passes by to cool down his sweat-slicked skin. “I wish the fair would come sooner. It’s next week, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Jeno answers.

“Ah, you didn’t go last time, did you?”

“Yes… Father wouldn’t let me.” It didn’t seem to matter how needling Jeno became, because Kim Doyoung was ten steps ahead of him and ten times more stubborn. And Kim Doyoung had made up his mind that his son was not to go to the fair. “He brought a cat home with him, however.” Jeno had loved it right away and called it Mina, and Mina had one brown eye and one green, both of which seemed to fix Jeno with a gaze so intense that sometimes Jeno had to back away. Despite that, Mina was a sweet cat, purring whenever Jeno would scratch her ears as she fed.

“Did he ever tell you why? The fair’s incredible. When I went as a child, I brought home a talking mirror.”

“He didn’t say.”

“The talking mirror was annoying,” Donghyuck adds. “Mother threw a sandal at it.”

“It didn’t tell you you were the most beautiful thing that ever laid eyes on it?” Jeno teases. Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

“It did… before Mother smashed it.” Donghyuck’s brows knit together and he squints at something from far off. “Is that Renjun?” he asks, eyeing how the merchant’s son was busy hauling boxes into the store. The Huangs came from China and brought all sorts of things with them, things that seemed to Jeno to be as magical as whatever was beyond the wall. They came at a good time, too; the Jungs had packed up to take a boat to America and it seemed that the people of the village mourned the lossof something spectacular.

“Should we say hello?”

“Of course!” Donghyuck tugs on Jeno’s sleeve as he runs to the storefront to greet Renjun, Jeno slow on his heels.

Renjun sees them and puts down the box he was carrying, hurrying out towards them. “Hello.”

“What was in the box?” Donghyuck asks, his face brightening up.

“A tea set,” Renjun explains. “Would you like to see?”

They clamber into the store, Donghyuck once again tugging on Jeno’s sleeve when it seemed like Jeno wanted to stay behind in the oppressive heat. Renjun shows them the unboxed tea sets, porcelain ones that glimmered white with blue flowers running through them, undecorated ones but in a brilliant jade… Donghyuck takes a tea cup from a set of burnished orange, flowers inlaid on the surface, and holds it gingerly in his palms, smiling softly to himself.

“Do you like them?” Renjun asks.

“They’re so beautiful,” Donghyuck gushes out.

“Do you want that one?”

“Oh, no, my family can’t—”

“It’ll be my gift to you!” Renjun suggests brightly. “Your birthday is coming soon anyway.”

Jeno frowns then blames it on the heat when Renjun asks. If there’s anything that could surpass a beautiful tea set, it’ll definitely have to come from beyond the wall, and with what little money Jeno has, he’s determined to go to the fair this time.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Donghyuck wheedles out of him later after dinner with their families. “You’re thinking, ‘How on earth am I going to do better than Renjun?’”

“Somehow I feel like you talked the talking mirror to death,” Jeno grumbles. “But how did you know that?”

“Because I know you, Lee Jeno,” Donghyuck says simply. “I already love you the most, so don’t go around trying to squander all your money on me.”

“You do?”

Donghyuck laughs at that. “We’ve been best friends for years.”

“Ever since you made fun of my ears,” Jeno points out, deflating slightly. His ears were pointed at the tips and twitched whenever Jeno got excited, and one day, Donghyuck noticed and poked fun at it but also started talking to him about other things.

“Speaking of, they’ve gotten all droopy,” Donghyuck says. He gives it a little brush, causing Jeno to jump. “You still want to give me something, don’t you? You’re such an idiot, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno’s face heats up as he splutters out, “I just want to give you something nice.”

At that, Donghyuck just shrugs and says, “There’s no convincing you otherwise. You’re slow and stubborn, like a cow.”

“I prefer a bull,” Jeno grouses.

“A cow,” Donghyuck repeats with a sly grin. His eyes get drawn back to the sky, mouth falling open slowly. Jeno follows suit and sees the thin stripe of a star falling through the sky, hears his mind turn like clockwork.

“I’ll get you that star,” Jeno blurts out. Donghyuck stares at him, clicking his tongue instead of smacking him on the head like he probably wanted to.

“Don’t be silly. You don’t know where it landed.”

“I’m sure it landed beyond the wall.”

“You’re worse than I thought! You don’t know what it’s like beyond the wall either,” Donghyuck complains.

“It’ll be a fun adventure!” Jeno protests. “And you’ll get your own star for your birthday.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “I’d never let you do something so stupid, but like I said, you have the willpower of a cow.”

“A bull,” Jeno corrects. “And if I make it home with the star, wouldn’t that be just amazing?”

The scowl on Donghyuck’s face quietly and slowly breaks down, becoming a smile that spreads across his face. “It would.”

 

 

“No,” Doyoung quickly refuses. “Absolutely not.”

Jeno throws a glance to his mother, but Sejeong only shakes her head, then slips off into her quarters to leave the two of them alone. It’s then that Doyoung’s expression softens.

“I wanted to wait some more before I could tell you,” Doyoung starts. “But I guess now is as good a time as any.”

“Tell me about what?” Jeno asks, the blood rushing to his fingers becoming cold.

“About your birth,” Doyoung answers. “About why I can’t let you go beyond the wall.”

“But… I know it’s dangerous. I promise I’ll be careful.”

At once, Doyoung looked tired. “It’s not that. I wish it were, but… You’re a very special boy, Jeno. You’re not from here, and if you go beyond the wall, I could—” Doyoung cuts himself off then, reaching for Jeno’s hands across the table. He clasps them tightly, imploring. “Please, Jeno, you’re my only child. Even if you’re not mine, I just can’t bear the thought of losing you. And your mother, she—When we found you, she was beyond ecstatic.”

It’s the first time Jeno had ever seen his father look so vulnerable, and something twinged inside of him upon hearing Doyoung's voice falter into a whisper. “I’ll… I’ll come back, Father. I promise,” Jeno says, floundering on the thought that his father might cry.

Doyoung doesn’t cry, fortunately, but he tightens his grip on Jeno’s hands. “Why are you even doing this?” he asks.

“It’s for Donghyuck,” Jeno tells him. “I… I think I love him.”

Upon hearing that, Doyoung can only face him with bemusement, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Boy bewitched you?” he teases.

Jeno feels his face heat up for the second time that night.

“I understand,” Doyoung says with a nod. He stands up, making a move for the tiny room in the house where all the little knick-knacks were stashed.

“What do you mean?” Jeno asks. He trips up on his own feet trying to follow Doyoung, who suddenly became a whirlwind of energy. “Father, what do you mean you understand?”

From inside the lacquered chest Doyoung pulls out a long cloth of fine white silk, glimmering like water in the dim light, and puts it down with a sigh. “Your father was very enchanting,” is all he says, making Jeno’s face scrunch together in confusion. Then he starts muttering to himself as he rummages through the items inside. He pulls out a glass orchid, a pale purple thing that has the faint tinkle of bells.

“What was my father like?” Jeno asks as he eyes the flower Doyoung’s placed in his palm.

“Handsome,” Doyoung says right away. “He had a wonderful laugh, but he’s lonely. I’m sure he would have been happy to keep you, if he could.”

“So why am I here?”

“It’s not safe for you there, I think,” Doyoung surmises. “There’s one more thing, but it’s with your mother, so don’t leave yet. I’ll bring you to the wall tomorrow morning.”

“What is this, then?” Jeno asks.

“This flower came with you,” Doyoung explains. “At the least, you should bring it with you. For luck, for protection, I’m not sure.”

“Thank you,” Jeno says dumbly. He closes his fist over the tiny orchid then steps out of the little storage room.

“Sleep well, Jeno.”

 

 

At breakfast, Jeno’s mother pushes the food around with her chopsticks, inconsolable, but she smiles at Jeno and piles more rice into his bowl. “You need to eat,” she says. “Who knows when you’ll eat well again.”

“I’m sure there will be inns,” Doyoung assures her. He helped Jeno pack when he woke up then gave Jeno the flower Sejeong wears in her hair. It’s of the same material as the orchid currently fixed into the sleeve of his robes but is almost opaque in its darkness. Doyoung placed it beside the orchid then said it would protect him.

“Yes, but will they accept our money?” Sejeong asks. For her contribution, she gave Jeno three copper coins, all tied together by a string running through the middle of each coin then fixed into the lining of Jeno’s robes for safety. She had also packed food—rice cakes and steamed sweet potatoes and dried strips of beef, dense things made to last.

“I’ll find a way,” Jeno assures her. It’s only belatedly that he realises he has no choice _but_ to find a way, and maybe his mother knows that as well, but she smiles at him like his words comfort her and ruffles his hair.

“Do you have all that you need?”

“Yes, Mother.”

Sejeong turns to face Doyoung and asks him, “How are you getting him past the guard?”

“I’m sure it won’t be difficult,” Doyoung says. “Who’s on guard today?”

“Chanyeol,” Sejeong answers, making Doyoung scoff.

“I told you so.” Doyoung finishes his tea as well as the last grains of rice in his bowl and his serving of preserved vegetables. “Are you finished eating, Jeno? Shall we go?”

Walking with Doyoung outside of the house like this, bag on one hand while Doyoung grips the other, makes Jeno feel like a tiny child. He’s almost at Doyoung’s height, but something in Jeno is saying it would be near impossible to catch up with Doyoung. As they get closer to the wall, Doyoung’s hand slips off of his then places itself on Jeno’s back, slightly pushing him forward.

Chanyeol, the guard at the wall, is tall, towering over even Doyoung. He’s all limbs, too, and has the fiercely loyal quality of a dog. “The fair’s not till next week,” he says upon seeing Doyoung and Jeno approach him.

“Jeno’s not here for the fair,” Doyoung says simply. For good effect, Jeno lifts up his travelling bag, which Chanyeol eyes with a certain scrutiny, his face knitted together.

“Where are you going?” Chanyeol asks Jeno.

Jeno falters, but Doyoung pats him on the back, gently.

“Remember the baby that came from the wall?” Doyoung asks.

“Yes,” Chanyeol says with a nod. “Gave Junmyeon the scare of his life when it cried. This is him, right? The boy?”

The exchange that followed was wordless—Chanyeol stepped aside after giving them both a nod, then Jeno unceremoniously crossed the gap, Doyoung following after him so he could wrap Jeno in his arms, embracing him tightly, practically squeezing. Doyoung isn’t saying goodbye, but that’s what Jeno feels, mulling the feeling over and over as he stumbles deeper into the forest.

 

***

 

Chenle, for lack of a better word, pouts. His older brother Jaehyun had just arrived into the palace, dressed in traveler’s clothes, and he smiles plaintively at Chenle.

“I love this warm welcome,” Jaehyun says.

“Father wants to see you,” Chenle replies then turns on his heel and heads for the chambers of the king.

On the way, Jaehyun makes small talk, asking Chenle about the weather and the food, acting like he’s been gone so long that he had forgotten the way it rains during summer at the peak of the day’s humidity and how to sit down for dinner. It grates at Chenle, like the incessant buzzing of a mosquito in his ear.

“Father’s sick. Why aren’t you asking about him?” Chenle asks, finally, and Jaehyun merely shrugs.

“I’ll see him for myself soon enough. And I’m no doctor.”

“You came back to make sure he was dying,” Chenle points out with petulance.

“Don’t be like that,” Jaehyun chides, the smile never leaving his face. “After all, you stayed behind. I’d suspect you put him on his deathbed.”

Chenle sniffs. “Father is ill from too much drinking. The doctors have declared his insides septic.”

“Have you heard from the priest?” Jaehyun then asks.

“Not since you killed him.”

Jaehyun’s smile turns into a full-blown grin. “How did you know?”

“Hiring an assassin is too cowardly,” Chenle replies. “And sloppy.”

“The deed is done,” is all Jaehyun says. They arrive at the chambers and flank their father from each side, Jaehyun leaning in particularly close to feel the pulse on his father’s throat. “Is he asleep?” Chenle nods.

Their father doesn’t wake up till the next hour. Lee Soo Man opens his eyes and searches the room slowly, asking, weakly, “Taeyong? Taeyong? Where are you?”

“He’s not here,” Chenle answers.

“When will he be back?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll wait for him,” Lee Soo Man declares. Chenle doesn’t bother telling him that Taeyong had been lost to them for a very long time; when Lee Soo Man stirs again, it’s to clasp at the beaded ornament on his bedside table. The ornament had three parts, with a wolf carved out of moonstone on the top level and two carved out of a brilliant yellow jade at the second level. “Do you know what this is?” When Jaehyun and Chenle don’t answer, Lee Soo Man continues, “This, more than anything, is proof that I am king.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Chenle can see how hungry Jaehyun looks, something wild in his eyes, like a fevered glint.

“You are both my very capable sons. If only your brother were here—” Lee Soo Man pauses, clears his throat. His knuckles are ghost-white from gripping onto the ornament too tightly, beads clacking together from the shaking in his wrist. The jade wolves had turned a icy green. “This will decide who shall be king,” he declares, then lifts up his arm and throws the ornament out of the window, but it picks up speed, hitting a star, which flared up before hurtling down the sky in a straight line.

 

***

 

Yerim had paused to admire the beauty of the falling star before putting her looking glass away and waking up Koeun, who stirred, paused, and waved Yerim away, a muffled groan escaping her barely parted lips.

“Wake up, you hag,” Yerim hisses. “A star has fallen.”

“Just now?” Koeun asks, her voice crystal clear all of a sudden. She sits up then ties her hair back, frowning at the way the loose, white strands tore and fell apart between her fingers. “About time.”

“It can’t have fallen too far from here,” Yerim surmises. “I hope this one’s pretty, too, like the last one.”

Koeun licks her lips and sighs. “I’m tired of bad knees,” she grouses. “They’ve confined me here for centuries.”

“Patience,” Yerim shushes her. “We’ll have our pretty little star soon enough.”

“Where are our Baekdu candles?” Koeun gets down from her bed and shuffles over to the cabinet, coming up with an ornate box grey from dust but shone jet black from the smooth lacquer once she wiped the dust away. She sets it down on the desk and opens it, her face falling when she sees nothing inside.

“We used the last one on the last star,” Yerim sighs. “And Baekdu candles in this economy?”

“I told you not to be so wasteful with them,” Koeun hisses.

“ _You_ were the one who chased the star last time,” Yerim counters.

“In any case, we have to catch the star on foot.”

“I’ll do it,” Yerim says with a grit of her teeth. “By the week’s end, we both will be restored to our former glory.”

“You’ll need what we have left of our last star,” Koeun says with a nod. She searches the cabinet for another box, smaller but more ornate, with gold threading through the lacquer. When she opens the box, a bright glow bursts forth, eventually dulling down to reveal a heart that pulsated with vigour.

Yerim reaches down for it, fingers closing in on the almost unbearable heat the heart possesses. She brings it up to her mouth and lets out a long sigh at the warmth coursing through her, a smile coming up unbidden as she sees the liver spots on the backs of her hands fade away then smooth over. “Don’t worry, dearest Koeun. I’ll bring the star back for us.”

“Make sure,” Koeun grumbles. “Let us prepare for your long journey.”

 

***

 

Jeno doesn’t want to admit it, but he thinks he’s lost. There are no clear markings in the forest, not even a well-worn trail, and he can’t see what’s beyond the trees, but he presses forward. Forward is better than going around, forward is better than—

“Excuse me.” The traveler backs away when Jeno tries to tackle him, holding his hands up in the air. His wide robes slip down his arms to reveal tanned skin. “I’m a friend.”

“How do I know that?” Jeno asks, his voice coming out tight and making him wince. “What’s your name?”

“Qian Kun. I’m a traveler, just like you, and I need to get home soon.”

“Your clothes…” Kun’s robes look the same as the ones Renjun wears, but a lovely soft green instead of Renjun’s blue. Jeno feels ill all the way to his stomach. “Are you from China?”

Kun smiles. “I had just come from there,” he explains. “I brought gifts back for my beloved. And you?”

“My journey’s only beginning,” Jeno says. “I’m afraid I won’t be of help to you in this forest.”

“Two minds work better than one,” Kun tells him. “This forest also becomes terrifying at night.”

“We have to hurry, then.” Jeno looks around then above, squinting at the sunlight bursting through the crowns of leaves. A passing wind makes the leaves rustle, creating a sound that echoes loud enough to sound like rainfall, making Kun frown.

“This is what I mean. The trees have a way of making you feel as if you’re swallowed up,” Kun says. “I’ve heard they’re intelligent, too. They whisper.”

The thought sends a chill down Jeno’s spine. “Whisper?” His brows knit together, and he looks at the tree nearest them, a gnarly old things with roots as thick as Jeno’s waist, the roots intertwining with those of the other trees so he can no longer tell where one tree ends and the other begins. “It makes sense, I think…”

He approaches the tree and places his palm against the bark, feeling nothing but hearing a small noise in the back of his head that grows into words. He startles, his hand jumping off of the tree, and his head becomes quiet once again, but his heart is hammering in his chest. Kun offers him a drink of water.

“Th-the trees,” Jeno stammers. “They—I… I think I know where to go now.” He gives Kun back the container then begins walking eastward, nothing but relief washing over him as the trees began to thin out and a visible path appeared.

The sun was beginning to set as well, washing everything orange in a way Jeno welcomed. They sit down by a tree and exchange food; Kun strikes up a match and heats up water for tea, serving Jeno a cup with two hands.

“Your beloved,” Jeno mentions as he takes the cup from Kun.

Kun has such a beautiful smile, wide with deep dimples. His eyes also had a lightness to them, shining when he spoke. “His name is Ten. I hope to bring him with me on my next journey. And you?”

“I’m looking for the fallen star,” Jeno tells him. “I have a beloved, too. Back home.”

“Ah!” Kun searches among his belongings, coming up with a fat yellowish candle that had a jet black wick running through it and a chain that glimmered like no metal Jeno has ever encountered. “I did not know how to thank you, but I think these will help you on your journey.”

Jeno eyes the two items with uncertainty. “What are these?”

“This chain is unbreakable,” Kun says. “It can even extend as much as you need it to.”

“And the candle?” Jeno holds it, feeling an unusual warmth come from it. Kun looks at him with surprise, making Jeno prickle.

“This is a Baekdu candle, one of the rarest items in the land. It will bring you to anywhere you desire.”

“Why didn’t you use this earlier to go home?” Jeno asks.

At that, Kun laughs but sobers up quickly, saying, “I’ve learned to value the journey, and your quest is more valuable than mine. I hope you find the star. Others with worse intentions would want to find it, too.”

 

 

The sun had set fully by the time Kun and Jeno part ways. Kun had gone on the trail by foot, guided only by the moonlight, and left the pack of matches for Jeno to light the candle. He had to think of the star, Kun said, for the star will guide him to where it is. Then he has to walk.

He lights the candle first, noting the strong smell of anise and cinnamon that’s wrapped him in a heady warmth, then puts one foot forward then another then another. The wind whistles past his ears and everything around him was reduced to blurs, making him feel uneasy as he takes step after step, not knowing where his feet were to land next.

He stops at a clearing and decides to sleep for the night but notices the ground is covered in soot and the rest of the area was a clear head above him. In the wide crater, he sees a sprawled figure on the other side and runs over to it, wondering how a boy his age had gotten into the crater. “Hello?” He taps the shoulder of the boy then shakes it when the boy doesn’t respond. “Are you alive?”

“Unfortunately,” the boy grumbles. He doesn’t open his eyes and instead shifts so his back is towards Jeno. “Now go away.”

“Have you seen a fallen star around here?”

“I’m not interested in helping you.”

“Please. I’m trying to find it, and I even crossed the wall—”

“That’s your problem,” the boy finally says. An ornament of beads and jade is clasped tightly in his hand, rattling against the ground. “I won’t say this again: go away.”

“I don’t understand,” Jeno says with a stomp of his foot. “I used the candle and I kept thinking of the star and how I wanted to bring it back to Donghyuck and this is definitely where it fell, but you’re the only one here…”

The boy still has his back turned to Jeno, but his voice is clear when he asks, “What’s your name?”

“Jeno.”

“Has anyone ever told you you are an idiot, Jeno?”

“Many times, actually,” Jeno tells him.

“Is everyone down here as foolish as you?”

“Everyone?” Jeno’s brows knit together. “I suppose not. Back home, my friend Renjun is very—What do you mean ‘down here’?” He kneels down then prods the boy on his back. “Are you… the star?”

It’s then that the boy turns to him, though his expression remains dark. “Very good, Jeno. You’re quite slow, you know.”

“This can’t be. You’re… a person.” Jeno trips over his words while the boy sits himself up.

“I’m a _star_ and my name is Jaemin,” Jaemin says with a sniff.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to go back to the wall with me?”

“Why would I do such a thing?”

“You see, I promised Donghyuck I’d bring the fallen star back to him.”

Jaemin’s eyes narrow. “And _who_ is this Donghyuck?”

“He’s… I love him. I’m _in_ love with him, in fact. My best friend.”

Jaemin coos. “Too bad I won’t come with you. You’ll have to find something else to impress him with.”

“But you’re here!” Jeno protests.

“Not on _purpose_!” Jaemin thrusts the ornament at Jeno’s face. “ _That_ stupid thing knocked me out of the sky. I can’t even go back home.”

“Then you have nowhere else to be,” Jeno argues.

“Ugh!” Jaemin stands up and shoves Jeno with all the force he can muster. “What makes you think being presented as a _gift_ to some earth _boy_ is a good option? Leave me alone!”

“I can’t. A traveler I met on the way, he… He said there are others who would come for you. Dangerous people.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Aren’t you endangering me right now?” he asks.

“Please,” Jeno begs. “I don’t know what they could want from you, but I believe that traveler.”

“Even if you’re right, I don’t see how you could protect me,” Jaemin says with a shake of his head. “You’re just a boy.”

Not for the first time since crossing the wall, Jeno wished Doyoung had accompanied him—or even Kun, who had survived a long journey by himself… It’s then that Jeno remembers the chain Kun had gifted him. He takes it out from the pocket in his sleeve and wraps it around Jaemin’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” Jaemin hisses. He pulls at the chain, his bottom lip trembling when he sees the chain grow longer the more he pulls at it and how Jeno ties the other end around his wrist. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” he then asks, his voice breaking.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno says quietly. He picks up the fallen ornament, pockets it, and starts walking, gritting his teeth each time Jaemin hurls a rock his way. Even if he couldn’t bring Jaemin with him back to the village, it didn’t seem right to leave him alone in the crater. The thought keeps him walking, coming to him in the cadence of Doyoung’s voice.

 

 

It’s well into the night when they decide to stop, Jaemin falling into a crumpled heap against the base of a tree and groaning, “I’d rather take my chances back there.”

“Suit yourself,” Jeno mumbles, his eyelids becoming heavier with each blink. He yawns and curls up on a tree opposite of Jaemin, but he doesn’t fall asleep right away. “Would you like something to eat? I still have sweet potatoes and dried beef strips.”

Jaemin makes a face at him.

“I’ll see if I can find us better food in the morning,” Jeno promises, too tired to bite back. “Sleep.”

After a few moments, Jeno feels a hand on his palm, shaking him awake. Jeno opens his eyes to see Jaemin sitting beside him.

“I can’t sleep,” Jaemin tells him.

“Try.”

“I can’t,” Jaemin repeats, and he looks close to tears. “Can I just stay here, please? I’m scared.”

Jeno nods then goes back to sleep, a voice floating in the insides of his dreams like a fat mosquito. _Jeno, this is Jaemin’s brother, Yuta._ At that, Jeno lets out a groan, but Yuta goes on, unbothered. _You’re right, dangerous people are after Jaemin. You have to protect him. Promise me, Jeno._

In the morning, Jeno decides he’s sick of this land beyond the wall. Jaemin is missing, but a small rattle of Jeno’s wrist tells him the chain is still attached, so he sits and waits, breaking open a sweet potato to eat. When Jaemin comes back, it’s with food in his hands—large fruits and half of a chicken.

“Where did you get those?” Jeno asks.

“There’s a village nearby,” Jaemin tells him. “I told a farmer that my companion was sick with fever and needed food. Chicken?”

“Thank you.” Jeno takes the chicken and splits it in half with his fingers, taking the quarter with the leg for himself.

“I thought a lot about your quest,” Jaemin brings up after swallowing a mouthful of chicken. “Tell me more about Donghyuck.”

“He… He’s bright and very caring, though he would never show it to you. He used to be known as a troublemaker in the village.”

Jaemin hums. “How did you know you were in love with him?”

The question throws Jeno back. “I’m not too sure,” Jeno admits. “One day, I just… felt it. And Donghyuck is beautiful, you can’t take your eyes off of him.”

“More than me?” Jaemin scoffs. Now that it’s daylight, Jeno can see Jaemin clearly, his light brown hair, light blue eyes, the flush in his lips which were curled into a pretty line. Jaemin catches him staring, a self-satisfied smile coming over his face. “Well?”

“You’re all right,” Jeno says with a clear of his throat then averts his eyes. Jaemin laughs.

“You’re loyal. I like that.”

“So you’re coming back home with me?”

“To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t want to,” Jaemin tells him. He polishes the apple on his sleeve then bites into it, juice running down his chin. His other hand reaches for Jeno’s ear. “Your ears are very expressive, did you know that?”

Jeno pulls his face away from Jaemin. “I did.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jaemin sighs. “First of all, even if Donghyuck’s nice, I would still be trapped with him and I like my freedom. Second, I have pride. I’m too beautiful to be made a present for some earth peasant.”

“Why didn’t you just leave when you had the chance?” Jeno grumbles. Jaemin throws the core of the apple at his head.

“You put this chain on me, you idiot.”

“I can’t let you go,” Jeno tells him. “I’ve come all this way, and—”

Jaemin pouts and brings his knees closer to his chest. “I hate you, Jeno.”

“I’m really sorry,” Jeno says. “I’ll bring you home after I show you to Donghyuck.”

“How are you going to bring me back?”

“Maybe with this?” Jeno brings out the last of his Baekdu candle and reshapes it, frowning when all it amounts to is the length of his palm. “If I bring you home to Donghyuck, I’ll give this to you. It brought me to you.”

Jaemin snorts. “I’m sure Donghyuck knows better than to give his attention to a dumb boy like you,” he says. “I don’t even know if that will be enough.”

“It’s worth a try.”

“You’re slow _and_ stubborn.”

Jeno grins up at him. “Trust me, I know that much.” Before Jaemin can get the candle from him, he puts it in his pocket again, making Jaemin glower at him. “Do we have a deal, Mister Star?”

It’s a while before Jaemin responds, a slow smile making its way across his face. “Yes, we have a deal.”

 

***

 

Yerim scowls at the horse she had attached to her carriage then kicks it on its hind leg. “I knew I shouldn’t have made you out of a boy. Boys are all slow,” she grumbles. “Stay right here.” She keeps the horse and the carriage hidden behind tall trees then approaches the witch eating by the clearing to ask: “May I share your meal?”

“Of course. Our own look out for one another,” the witch agrees before licking her fingers of grease. “Catch was good today.”

“You’re a fisherwoman?” Yerim asks.

“No, but I do love eating them,” the witch answers. She gets the last fish roasting by the fire and puts it on a plate before handing it over to Yerim.

There is a noise that disrupts them, chirping from a bird covered in dusty pink feathers. “I suppose you don’t eat chicken,” Yerim points out, making the witch laugh.

“Too bland, I think. Is my slave disturbing you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Can’t get good help these days,” the witch tuts. “He’s a useless one, I tell you. Gave away my most prized good for _free_.”

“I always did think men were quite stupid,” Yerim sighs. She picks at the warm flesh of the fish with her fingers, the soft meat full of filling fat and the skin crisp and crackling. “Where did you find him?”

“The woods near the king’s palace. He’s a pretty one.” The witch flicks her wrist upwards, and the slave stumbles, unsure of his own footing. His black hair falls to cover his eyes. “Bow, you idiot. We have a guest.”

The slave only blinks slowly, almost like an owl, but then he sinks into the ground, palms flat in front of him.

Yerim hums. “You’re right. Almost as pretty as the star I’m questing for.” Heat rises to her cheeks as quickly as she’d said it, but the witch in front of her only smiles.

“Sounds nice, isn’t it? To have my own star.” The witch—Seulgi—stands up. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be on your wa—” She falls to her knees when Yerim screeches, causing the wind around them to seem almost cutting, roaring past their ears.

“How dare you! I know all about you, Seulgi. You sell nothing but useless trinkets. You are a _disgrace_ ,” Yerim hisses. “And you dare poison my meal with truth seaweed? Who am I?”

“The queen!” Seulgi’s face is forced to the ground. “I am so sorry. I didn’t think I would be sharing a meal with you, your grace.”

“Do you think I’m that slow?” Yerim laughs then shakes her head. “No, I don’t think you were ignorant. Only a coward.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” Seulgi begs. “No one else will know about the star!”

“But of course.” Yerim kneels down and curls her fingers around Seulgi’s jaw, forcing her to face Yerim, her mouth open like a fish. “You won’t do anything of the sort, my dear,” Yerim says as she strokes Seulgi’s hair with her other hand, feeling the strands become brittle as the life seeps out of them and into Yerim’s fingers. “You won’t recognise the star if it were dancing naked in front of you. You’ll never see it, smell it, hear it. It will never fall into your hands.”

The slave screams, his voice growing hoarse, and rushes over to Seulgi when Yerim lets her go.

“What an awful life you have,” Yerim tells him, “to have to serve her for the rest of your days.” She walks back to her carriage, heading northward without sparing a glance back.

 

***

 

“Where would my brother go?” Chenle wonders aloud, a map of the kingdom spread out in front of him. “Would he go straight for where the star landed?”

“I think you need to reconsider, my lord,” Jisung, his adviser, suggests. “We know the star fell west, but it wouldn’t have stayed for long.”

“Shall we ride east, then?”

Jisung bows. “As you wish.”

“No. I want to know what you think.”

“It makes sense, my lord.”

Chenle frowns, his brows knitting together. “A star wouldn’t know where to go. It could be going in circles for all we know,” he says slowly. He trails a finger from the palace westward, stopping only where the land met the sea. “If we ride west, I think we’ll meet it halfway. We’ll need to hurry or else Jaehyun could get it before I do.”

“I didn’t know you want to rule, my lord,” Jisung remarks.

“I don’t, but I can’t let Jaehyun have all the power,” Chenle tells him. When Jisung remains unresponsive, Chenle raises his brow at him and asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jisung says with a shake of his head. “We shall head west in the morning.”

 

 

“Where would my brother go?” Jaehyun turns to face Youngho, scowling when all Youngho does is loll his head back. “You weren’t supposed to drink all that wine,” Jaehyun chides.

“I thought we were celebrating your new kingship,” Youngho says with a lopsided grin. “With Taeyong gone, you are next in line, after all.”

“Supposedly,” Jaehyun sighs. “Then my father decided to play a game with us. He always loved Taeyong the most… I’m sure it would’ve pained him to see someone else succeed him.” He circles the rim of his own untouched glass of wine. “And it would pain me to see my younger brother sit on the throne.”

“I’m sure Chenle will try looking for where the star landed first,” Youngho says, “instead of anticipating where it would end up.”

“What would you suggest?”

“You said it fell somewhere in the west?” Jaehyun nods, so Youngho continues, “It can’t go far. Further west is the sea and the north is blocked by mountains. If you ride west, you can intercept it as it travels east.”

Jaehyun nods then lets himself take a sip of wine. “Do you think what they say is true? About stars?”

“What do they say?”

“If you eat its heart, you will have everlasting life,” Jaehyun says softly, his words nearly drowned out by the noise of the pub. “If it is true, then all the more I cannot let little Chenle reach it first.”

“ _Is_ it true?” Youngho ventures while Jaehyun knocks the entire glass of wine back.

“It’s worth a try…” Jaehyun says slowly before grinning at Youngho and laughing. “If not, at least I’ll know what it tastes like.”

 

***

 

It’s at a crossroads that Yerim stops and hops off her carriage. Koeun had advised her to lay a trap for the star, to coax it into a state of calm, so Yerim planned to construct an inn. First, she detaches the horse and transforms it back into its human form before clicking her tongue and changing him to a girl. “Your name is Herin,” Yerim tells her. “You are not to speak a word and you must only follow my orders. Is that clear?”

Herin nods quietly.

“We are going to trap the star here,” Yerim continues. “I want you to make it as comfortable as possible so it may lower its guard.” Herin nods again then stands back to let Yerim work on the carriage.

As the carriage grew, it had begun to create small sections inside itself for bedrooms, a kitchen, and a common bathing area. The walls of the carriage became white and papery, the metalwork became wooden planks. Herin watched with wide eyes, her mouth falling open when she sees how Yerim had transformed from a girl to a matron.

Yerim scowls at her. “I _know_. Now go inside and help me prepare tea and food for our honoured guest.”

 

***

 

“No offence,” Jaemin begins, “but do you know where you’re going?”

“All I know is that the sea is that way”—Jeno points somewhere, following the scent of the ocean the wind carried—“so the wall is the opposite way. The fair’s also coming, so I’m sure we’re going to meet others who are headed the same way.”

“That’s nice,” Jaemin notes absentmindedly while playing with the chain. “Since I agreed to go with you, can you take this off now?”

“You might run away,” Jeno tells him.

“You don’t know how to break it, do you?” When all Jeno does is smile at him, Jaemin lets out a sigh. “How did you ever survive past that little village of yours?”

“When I met that traveler in the forest, the trees just… told me the way,” Jeno says, his voice turning feeble as he goes on to explain how the trees whispered to him, guided him, but Jaemin only looks at him with sincerity.

“Do you think it could happen again?” Jaemin asks.

“If we could find trees nearby,” Jeno says with a laugh, his insides filling up with relief. “You don’t think it’s crazy? Or strange?”

“Why would I?” Jaemin counters with a frown. “You found me with a candle.”

The reminder surprises Jeno, who had forgotten the queerness of each new experience beyond the wall. “You’re right,” he mumbles. “You know, I wish my father were here. He would know what to do. He’s not even my real father—he says I came from here, beyond the wall.”

“Maybe that’s why the trees could talk to you,” Jaemin offers.

“Maybe so,” Jeno says with a nod. “I wish I knew more… I don’t know how long it will take us to get back to the village.”

“I’m not too sure your father could help you,” Jaemin says. “Like you said, someone else will be headed the same way. We can join them. For now, we have to keep walking.”

So they do. They walk along the path even through sunset, relying on the light of the moon to illuminate their path, which seemed endless in the near darkness. Instead of complaining, Jaemin had helped Jeno keep awake, asking him questions about life back in his village till it dawned on him that the village was as small as can be.

“Your life must have been so boring before meeting me,” Jaemin points out.

“I don’t doubt that’s true,” Jeno says with a snort.

“Then once this journey is over, you’ll go back to your little boring village life.”

Jeno doesn’t know what to say—for a stretch of road, he considered sneaking Donghyuck past the wall to go on an adventure with him, but it wouldn’t be good to leave his parents behind again. There was also the persistent, almost nagging thought that it wouldn’t matter if he came back; some other boy in the village would lead the same life, safe and content to live without ever crossing the wall except for fair days to visit the market. Jaemin doesn’t bother him about it, letting the idle chatter slip away until they approached a crossroads and an inn with light emanating from its windows.

“I think we should rest there for the night,” Jaemin suggests.

Jeno shakes his head. “We can’t afford to lose time. We still don’t know how far we are from the wall.”

“I’m tired,” Jaemin whines. “As much as I agree with you, I know you must be tired as well. It is also dangerous to continue so late at night. Quit being stubborn.”

The lights at the inn are warm and from where they stood, Jeno could hear the gentle flowing of water, which must mean a bathing area. Everything was pulling him towards it. “We have to leave first thing in the morning,” Jeno says, more to himself than to Jaemin, who visibly brightens.

“I’ll wake you up myself,” Jaemin offers then leads the way to the entrance, sliding open the doors. “Hello?”

The matron of the inn appears from behind one of the sliding doors with a tray containing cups of tea, curls of steam rising from them. “My, you look like a typhoon had just run through you,” she says with a click of her tongue. “Come inside.”

“My friend, too,” Jaemin says, lifting up the hand where the chain was tied to his wrist. Jeno walks up to the entrance as well to stand beside Jaemin.

“There is nothing to worry about,” the matron tells him with a smile. “We have plenty of room for everyone.”

“We’re sorry about the late hour,” Jeno says, which the matron dismisses with a wave of her hand.

“You’re safe now. That is the important thing,” the matron says. “How about we start with a bath?”

“That sounds nice,” Jaemin admits. “What do you say, Jeno?” He laughs when Jeno flushes red.

“First, we need to get rid of this awful chain.” She takes Jaemin’s hand, using her free hand to trace each individual link. The chain disappears when she lets go, Jaemin watching it with wide eyes.

“How did you—”

“You learn a few things once you get to my age,” the matron tells Jaemin. “Shall we prepare your bath now? Afterwards, my daughter Herin will serve you dinner.”

 

 

“How do you think she got rid of this?” Jaemin asks while rubbing his wrist. He keeps his voice low, barely above a whisper.

Jeno shakes his head. “I know even less than you do.”

“We should definitely leave first thing in the morning,” Jaemin then says. “It’s strange…”

“We should have left right away, then. You just like the bath,” Jeno accuses him.

“Maybe.” Jaemin smiles at him. “I could stay here all day.”

“Let’s leave after supper.”

“Sure,” Jaemin sighs, leaning back into the walls of the bath. They fall into silence again, until Jaemin asks, “Is there a bath like this in your village?”

“There is.”

“Can we go there?”

At that, Jeno laughs. “Whatever you want, Jaemin.” Satisfied, Jaemin gets up. Jeno follows suit, getting up from the other side where his robe was.

When they return inside the inn, they get ushered into individual rooms, where dinner waited for them, already set into single portions. Jeno eyes the food appreciatively but wonders, “Where’s Jaemin?”

The girl, who he presumes to be Herin, only looks at him.

“My friend?” Jeno asks again. “Boy about the same height as me, light brown hair?” When Herin remains quiet, Jeno decides to give up. “Never mind. I think it would be better for us to have some time away from each other… He must be very tired.”

Once he’s made up his mind, he picks up his chopsticks and begins to eat, trying his best to savour the bowl of steamed rice in front of him instead of quickly bringing everything to his mouth. Herin had left in the middle of it, slipping away quietly and leaving a tiny gap in the sliding door so that the closing of it won’t disturb him from his dinner. Jeno felt stone-like when he finished, barely making it to the bedding before falling asleep.

 

***

 

“We should stop here for the night,” Youngho points out after a spotting the inn at the crossroads. “It’s too dangerous to go on this late.”

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything but instead directs the horse to the direction of the inn.

“Think they have wine?”

“This isn’t the time, Youngho,” Jaehyun grumbles at him. They stop in front of the inn, and Jaehyun tells Youngho to bring their horses to the back while he speaks with the innkeeper, who opens the door with a scowl on her face. “I know it’s late,” Jaehyun tells her, prickling at her expression, “but I promise you that we only need food and bedding, if you have them. A bath, too.”

Her face softens up and she bows at him. “I’ll see what I can do for you, my prince.”

“Something isn’t right,” Jaehyun says later to Youngho over dinner as Youngho pours firewater into their respective cups. “She knew I’m the prince.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Youngho asks. “I think she would have turned us away if she didn’t.”

“In all my travels, it was rare to find someone who knew who I am…” Jaehyun brings the cup of firewater to his lips and winces at the burn. “I don’t think I’m safe here. We’d better leave now.”

“Now?” Youngho groans. “Can’t we finish eating first?”

“No, Youngho. We have to go now, before we could end up dead.”

“Are you so sure?” the innkeeper cuts in, her voice high and soft, but she eyes them with such coldness. “I can’t let you leave, my good prince.”

“You will,” Jaehyun says. He draws the sword which was attached to his hip while Youngho scrambles to get his bow. “You’ll let us leave peacefully if you want no trouble.”

The innkeeper produces a green fire from her palm, the colour of it reflecting off her face in an eerie light. “I could,” she drawls, “but where would the fun in that be?”

 

***

 

Jeno hears a loud scream and jolts up from his sleeping position, sweat and cold taking over his hands. It’s not Jaemin’s, but he wonders if trouble had reached Jaemin already, making him spend time cursing himself as he goes through room after room for Jaemin. Despite how it looked on the outside, the inside of the inn felt endless, the corridor stretching on almost as if in a nightmare. The scream that had woken him up suddenly felt so far away.

After a while, Jeno hears Jaemin shout, “Jeno!” and runs to it.

The door to Jaemin’s room is locked, the sliding mechanism jammed up. Jeno grips hard on it and forces it open, digging his heels into the floor to keep himself from sliding off. When it finally opens, Jaemin faces him with a tear-streaked face from his beddings.

“Where were you?” he asks, his voice shaking. “I was so scared.”

“We have no time,” Jeno says, pulling on Jaemin’s arm. It felt limp and moved with no resistance from Jaemin. “We have to leave!”

“That woman is a witch,” Jaemin says.

“She seemed nice,” is all Jeno could say.

“I meant she’s a _real_ witch!” Jaemin tells him with a scowl. “I can’t move my body at all. It’s like I’m a floating head.”

Without prompt, Jeno bends down to Jaemin’s level and hoists him till he’s sitting up. Then, he says, “I’m going to carry you,” while wiping the tears off of Jaemin’s face. “I won’t let her hurt you.”

Jaemin nods, letting out a tiny shriek when Jeno puts his arms under Jaemin and lifts him like he would a sack. “You’re weirdly strong,” he points out.

“You’re not that heavy,” Jeno says, though he groans when he has to bring himself upright and Jaemin only watches him with a wry smile. “You’re not,” Jeno insists.

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Jaemin tells him sweetly. “But, really, I hope this curse wears off soon.”

“Me, too,” Jeno grumbles as he began to walk out of the room. “I heard a scream that woke me right up. It was a man’s.”

“So?”

“He could have a horse,” Jeno says. “We’ll check the back area first for it then get it if we have to.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Jaemin asks.

Thinking of Yuta’s warning, Jeno simply says, “I’ll run.”

“She said she’ll cut my heart out and eat it.”

“I’ll run faster.”

“Stupid boy,” Jaemin grumbles though he ends up smiling.

The witch finds them not before long, her eyes shining madly from the fire that began to eat at the inn’s rooms. The fire also lit her face in a sickly, ghastly green light, making her look grotesque as she faces them with a pout. “Where are you going, my sweet?”

Jaemin stirs in Jeno’s arms, mostly his nails digging into the flesh of Jeno’s arm.

“I can’t let you leave yet. I saved your life, you know,” the witch continues. “A nasty man came here to try to hurt you, a prince who wanted your heart so he could live forever.”

“You’re lying,” Jaemin spits.

“Am I? Do you want to see? His blood spilled blue when I slit his throat—”

“Stop!” Jaemin shouts, his face turning red in anger (or in fear, Jeno doesn’t know). “I know you’ll do the same to me, like what you did to Joohyeon.”

“She was so beautiful,” the witch sighs with a lick of her lips. “You’ll do.”

“You’re awful.”

“It shouldn’t matter to you anyway,” she says with a sniff. “You can never go back home. Just come to me quietly and I’ll make sure your friend returns to the wall safely.”

Jaemin’s mouth presses together in a thin line, his eyes flickering between the witch, the fire, and Jeno, before he settles on a decision. “Jeno,” he says, “put me down.”

“What?”

“She’s right… I can’t go back home.”

“You’ll die,” Jeno points out, voice feeble. At Jaemin's lack of response, he lowers his knees and puts Jaemin down, letting Jaemin use him as a crutch as his legs were still faltering.

“It’s okay,” Jaemin whispers to him. “Thank you for everything.”

Jeno shakes his head. His fingers brush against the candle in his pocket and he holds onto it from there, thumb stroking the wick to keep it upright. He leans into Jaemin’s face, mumbles, “We are leaving _together_. I need you to think of home,” then thrusts his hand—fingers wrapped tight around the candle—into the fire.

 

***

 

  
Chenle arrives around midday, drawn by the smoke rising from the crossroads. There isn’t much left to the scene—or barely anything at all, almost as if the structure never existed. All Chenle sees is Youngho’s barely clothed body, a knife protruding from his chest, and farther down, Jaehyun lying in a puddle with his throat slit, naked as a newborn.

“What happened here?” Jisung asks through the sleeve which he had brought up to cover his face, the stench of sulfur rising from the ground becoming unbearable.

“I have a suspicion,” Chenle says. He wrinkles his nose at the sight of Jaehyun, the rivulets of blue blood that ran down to his stomach now dried up. “Can you close his eyes?” he asks Jisung, referring to Jaehyun’s glassy stare. “I can’t bear seeing him like this.”

“Do you want us to arrange a funeral?” Jisung asks.

Chenle shrugs and answers, “We might as well. Or people will think I killed him.”

“Which you were planning to do,” Jisung points out.

“I wish I had gotten to him first,” Chenle says with a frown, wanting to forget his obligation to avenge Jaehyun. “He doesn’t have the jade wolves, does he?” Jisung shakes his head and Chenle scowls. “We need to follow that witch. I’m not king yet.”

 

***

 

When the candle blows out, it’s freezing, the kind of sharp cold that tears through Jeno’s skin, his bones, muscles.

Jaemin huddles himself even closer to Jeno, who he had clung to while he was regaining his limbs, and asks, “Where are we?”

“I wish I knew,” Jeno says. “I told you to think of home!”

“I _did_!” Jaemin shouts, his voice nearly getting itself carried away by the strong winds that surrounded them. “Why would I think of _your_ home?”

“You said you can never go back home,” Jeno argues. “You almost died for it!”

“ _You_ said it was are worth a try, Jeno!” Jaemin crosses his arms, matching the glare that Jeno was giving him, though Jeno can’t feel much except for what felt like tiny ice knives digging into his face.

“We can’t just jump down,” Jeno points out.

Jaemin huffs and rolls his eyes. “We should just sit and wait for someone to come.” To prove his point, he takes a seat on the cloud, dangling his legs off the edge.

Jeno stares at him, his mouth dropping open. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“It’s not impossible. Come, sit down.” Jaemin pats the space next to him, which Jeno takes, though he keeps his legs clear off the edge, tucking them under him. “I’m sorry,” Jaemin then says. “I was being foolish.”

“We both were being foolish,” Jeno reassures him. “Are you cold?”

Taking the invitation, Jaemin moves closer to Jeno and links their hands together. The chill of Jaemin’s palms makes Jeno wince, but he lets Jaemin draw warmth from them, pulling him in closer.

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin says again, his head lowered. “I put you in danger.”

Jeno squeezes Jaemin’s hands, making Jaemin face him. “Our deal doesn’t matter now. We just have to get you somewhere safe.”

“I could be safe,” Jaemin tells him, the words coming out slow, “wherever you go. I think.” At that, Jeno only nods, and Jaemin wraps his arms around him, burying his face into Jeno’s shoulder. Jaemin’s shivering, the part of Jeno’s clothes where he was pressed against becoming damp, and Jeno can only hold him tighter.

Thunder cracks through the sky, making Jeno lift his head to see the large ship passing, lightning bolts getting trapped into large containers on each side of the ship. It stops in front of their cloud and extends a plank out of the side for them with a figure looming that Jeno recognises as Kun.

Kun runs down the plank and ushers them to the ship, helping Jaemin who still had difficulty walking and needed to be carried halfway up. Once they had all climbed aboard, Kun asks them, “Did you run into trouble?”

“A witch,” Jeno says breathlessly.

“You’re safe here,” Kun says, laying a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder to comfort him. “Shall we go to the cabin? Ten and I just made dinner. There should be enough for all of us.”

Ten, a lightning merchant and the captain of the ship, is small, shorter than both Jeno and Jaemin, and has a petite face. He spoke with a clear voice as he asked Jeno and Jaemin to recount their story, frowning when Jeno mentions they need safe passage back to the wall. “It’s not on the way, I’m afraid. I can only bring you close to it then you have to find your own way,” he says. By that time, Kun had served them all and Ten began to eat.

Jeno shares a look with Jaemin, who ends up saying, “That’s fine, thank you. We would have died if you had not found us.”

“It was some story,” Kun says with a smile. “Please eat.”

“Do we have any rooms left for them?” Ten asks Kun.

“Just the one. It only has one bed, too, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Ten teases them. Jaemin flushes a bright red and coughs into his soup.

 

 

“I feel much better now,” Jaemin tells Jeno in their room, a small but comfortable one with thick, fluffy sheets. “Your friend gave me an antidote for the curse.”

“They’re nice people,” Jeno says. “I can sleep on the floor, if you’d like.”

“Nonsense. The bed’s big enough, isn’t it.” Jaemin lies down on the bed, leaving an entire side open for Jeno. When Jeno lies down, there’s still a good amount of space between them without Jeno having to sleep close to the edge. “Come closer, Jeno. I don’t bite.”

Jeno moves closer and so does Jaemin, till their faces were only mere centimetres apart and Jeno can feel the tops of his cheeks warm up fiercely. Jaemin laughs, something about him brighter now that they’re both relaxed and well-fed with new clothes put on their backs. The brightness of him is mesmerising.

“Ten thinks he’s on to something,” Jaemin whispers.

“Kun knows about Donghyuck,” Jeno reminds him petulantly.

“I’m sure he does,” Jaemin tells him dryly. “You’renot likely to let him forget it.”

Jeno smiles up at him. “You sound jealous, Jaemin.”

“Listen to yourself,” Jaemin scoffs. “There’s no use liking you; your life is much shorter than mine.”

Shrugging, Jeno moves away then stretches his arms out. Jaemin follows him, sitting up so he’s now looking down at Jeno with an expression on his face that Jeno can’t place.

“Jeno,” Jaemin begins, “do you love Donghyuck?”

“We had this conversation already,” Jeno groans. “Please sleep.”

Jaemin twists his mouth then sucks on his bottom lip, chewing on it. “How did you know?” he insists on asking. “Is there something you feel when you see him?”

With a sigh, Jeno rubs his eyes then sits up as well so he can face Jaemin, the weight of the day large and heavy on his shoulders. “I grew up with him, you see. We had other friends, of course, but I realised that I wanted to spend most of my time with him. And one day I thought about living with him the way my parents do, and… I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

“Does he know this?”

Jeno laughs. “I was meaning to tell him by bringing you, but…”

“But?” Jaemin prompts.

“He might not believe me,” Jeno admits. “I know I didn’t believe it when I first saw you.”

“No one has ever come from beyond the wall to your village?”

Jeno shakes his head. “There’s a fair that comes to the village every nine years. It’ll be in a few days, in fact, but only a handful go each time. To be honest, no one will ever believe me despite all the wonders the people bring back from the fair.”

“No one?”

“Except my parents. They helped me on this journey; my father, especially.” Jaemin smiles at that, like he had situated himself in Jeno’s fond memory. Jeno continues, “But I told you my real parents come from here. I’ve never met them, though I wish I had.”

“It doesn’t matter. I think you grew up well,” Jaemin tells him with a touch of Jeno’s ear for good effect, smiling when it twitches against his fingers. “Can I meet your parents, too?”

Jeno leans into the touch then tells Jaemin with a smile, “I think they’ll love you.”

 

***

 

“I know what you’re looking for, my prince,” the witch says, “but it isn’t with me.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying to me?” Chenle asks. Behind him, Jisung titters, uncomfortable with the field they’ve arrived in and the lack of anything in plain sight and the rush of the sea underfoot, separated from them by a high, steep cliff that the waves crash into. Cutting through the scent of the sea breeze was sulfur coming from the witch, who only smiles at Chenle with plaintiveness.

“Don’t I look like an old hag?” she counters. “Believe me, if I had the star, I would look my best right now.”

“You will lead me to it,” Chenle commands. “I assure you I only want what is mine.”

“I want what is mine as well,” the witch says with a sigh. “Can I trust your word?”

“You can,” he lies. “You may do whatever you want with the star. It’s no concern of mine.”

“You’re an awful liar, my prince. No man has ever resisted the allure of an immortal life, especially not a prince.”

Jisung is ready to leave, but Chenle stands his ground and brings out his sword. With a twist of her wrist, she bends Chenle’s arm to force the sword towards him, stopping before the tip of it enters Chenle’s stomach.

Chenle grits his teeth from the pain, searing heat flashing up his entire side. He only registers being able to tell Jisung to run before she closes her fingers into a fist and the sword goes through him.

 

***

 

Ten says it’ll be another day before they can land. From there, it was another day’s walk to the wall—half, if they can get safe passage. “You can try,” he says with a sniff, “but most people around these parts are quite awful to deal with.”

“This is why I wanted to bring him travelling with me,” Kun says. “If he could leave work alone for some time.”

Ten laughs and smiles at Kun, his eyes forming crescents when he does. “You know I can’t. Someone has to make a living between the two of us,” he teases Kun. “But I look forward to it.”

Kun places a long canister on the table and pushes it towards Jeno. “This is fresh lightning. It should help you in case you encounter any trouble,” he explains.

“Even against a witch?” Jaemin asks.

“I think so.”

Jeno stands up and walks over to Kun and Ten, bowing low. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how I can repay you,” he says, making them laugh.

“I think we’ll see each other again, if all goes well,” Ten tells him.

“We’ll be attending the next fair,” Kun then offers. “I hope we can still see each other then.”

“I hope so, too,” Jeno says.

Jaemin remains quiet, but Ten faces him and says, “I hope we can see you again, too, my dear,” making Jaemin brighten up visibly.

The ship is docked on a beach, the sand making way to smooth road some metres away. In addition to the bolt of lightning, Jeno and Jaemin were given a bit of food and water and another set of clothes, all tied up in a little bag that Jeno hoists over his back. As soon as they get out of the beach, the ship takes off, soaring higher into the sky till they can no longer see it.

Jeno puts a foot forward then takes Jaemin’s hand. “We better start walking.”

 

 

The day is searingly hot. It was humid, too; the clothes stuck to their skin and they breathed through their mouths, gasping for air each time, so when Jaemin first hears the sound of wheels turning, he runs to it. Jeno clambers after him, not taking long to catch up to Jaemin, then stops him.

“We don’t know who they are,” Jeno points out.

“I think they’re headed to the fair, like we are,” Jaemin says, his mouth jutting out into a pout. “Isn’t it worth a try?”

Sighing, Jeno lets him go. Jaemin chases after the caravan then hits the door of it with his palm until it stops at a halt. The owner of it—a middle-aged woman that Jeno thinks must have been a great beauty when she was younger—gets down from the front and eyes them with a sharp glare and her hands on her hips.

“What do you want?” she asks.

“We need to get to the wall,” Jaemin says.

She only glares at them, mostly at Jeno, who felt as if he were under scrutiny. “Are you deaf, boy?” she asks Jeno.

“We need to get to the wall,” Jeno repeats.

“Ah, going to the fair, are you? What do I get in exchange?” She holds out her palm and waits while Jeno checks himself for money, which never saw itself

The glass flowers were cool on his skin, sending a jolt through him. He unfastens the deep, blood red pasque flower and shows it to the woman, who eyes it with a hungry stare. “This is all I have, I’m afraid,” he says, hoping slightly that she would refuse.

“This was my rarest and dearest item,” she says. Then she gives him an even colder look. “How did you come across this?”

“I—I don’t know. My mother just gave it to me.”

“Very well,” she sniffs. “It’s mine, boy. I want it back.”

It’s then that Jaemin whispers to him, “I think she’s a witch. She doesn’t know I’m in front of her.”

“I want your word that you won’t harm me,” Jeno tells her.

She clicks her tongue at him. “Oh, you’re being too difficult,” she snarls. Jeno puts the flower back inside his sleeve, making her reach out for it. After she collects herself, she concedes, “Fine. I will not harm you. I will only transport you to the wall.”

“To make sure, I will not give this to you until we reach the wall,” Jeno insists.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, all right. Now that’s settled, I have to tell you that I have no room in the caravan for more people,” she says, practically chirping. She places the tip of her finger right between Jeno’s brows.

He can feel himself sink lower to the ground and he watches Jaemin fight the witch, but she pays him no mind, instead lifting Jeno up and placing him in the caravan along with her slave. When Jeno opens his mouth, only a soft mewl comes out, making him retreat in shame.

Jaemin clambers into the caravan, squeezing himself in. The slave makes space for him, lifting up his robes to do so.

“You must be the star,” the slave says in wonder. His voice is soft, barely audible in all the racket, and his face is delicate, but what was most striking about him were the ears that protruded from his hair, ears that were lightly covered in mauve fur. They were now sideways, as he was frowning.

“Is that why she can’t see me?” Jaemin asks, lowering his voice as well into a whisper.

“Yes. We ran into the queen of all witches a while back… My mistress had angered her,” he explains.

Jaemin nods. “My name is Jaemin. And yours?”

The slave shakes his head.

They halt once more, and the mistress had flung open the back of the caravan in anger. “How dare you make noise!” she screeches at the slave. Without another word, she turns him into a bird with dusty pink feathers and places him in a cage that has seen better days. She leaves to go back to the front, complaining all the while about being courteous to slaves only to have them show disrespect.

“I guess it’s just me, then,” Jaemin says. He picks Jeno up from the floor and places him on his lap, stroking gently down the head, right between the ears. Then he starts to hum. It’s a song Jeno’s never heard, but he finds himself lulled to sleep nonetheless.

 

 

Light breaks through the caravan again, making Jeno blink slowly. Jaemin also stirs, unaccustomed after having spent such a long period in darkness.

“There you are,” the witch says. “Come down, my sweet.” Jeno follows and, before long, is transformed into a human again, stumbling on his feet from the newfound weight. Jaemin catches him in time, steadying him.

“What was that?” Jeno demands.

The witch shrugs. “I didn’t harm you, as I promised. We’re at the marketplace. Now where is my flower?”

Jeno unfastens the flower again and presents it to her. It felt like it was being torn from his skin when she snatches it from him, and he watches with sorrow as she tucked it into her bosom.

She gives him one last smile before riding off, leaving Jeno and Jaemin behind.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asks right away.

“Just… dizzy,” Jeno says slowly. He leans against the wall and takes in long breaths, exhaling through his mouth till his head no longer felt quite so heavy on his shoulders. Jaemin squeezes his hand the whole time, the pressure helping keep Jeno steady.

His face is red, which Jeno notices.

“Is something wrong?” Jeno asks.

“Nothing!” Jaemin lets out a cough, then says, “Did we make it in time?”

“Donghyuck’s birthday is tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you are very excited to see him.”

It dawns on Jeno that aside from when Jaemin would mention Donghyuck, the thought of him hadn’t really crossed his mind, and a part of him feels guilt, no longer sure for whom he had come all this way for. He nods, a little uncertainly. “I am.”

 

 

Instead of heading straight for the wall, Jaemin urges Jeno to rest, finding an inn in the marketplace to usher Jeno into. “They have private baths here,” he offers after speaking to the owner. “You should get a good night’s sleep, then we can surprise Donghyuck tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”

“You’re excited,” Jeno notes, raising his voice so Jaemin can hear him from the bathroom.

“I’m nervous,” Jaemin corrects him. “For you.”

“Why?”

“I want you to be happy, Jeno,” Jaemin tells him as he reappears in the bedroom, wringing water out of his hands. He pulls Jeno up then brings him to the bath, stopping only when Jeno insists he can disrobe by himself.

Jeno lowers himself into the bath, sighing as the warmth sorted out his muscles. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” he asks with a slight laugh.

Jaemin only goes as far as dipping his feet into the bath, splashing water at Jeno with his toes. “We have. And you’ve gotten a bit quicker,” he teases.

“I’ve become a man,” Jeno declares. Jaemin only rolls his eyes at him but doesn’t say anything, keeping quiet so Jeno falls into quiet as well.

He helps dry Jeno off when he’s finished, flushing red when Jeno complains that he’s treating him like a baby.

“I never thanked you,” Jaemin points out. “This is it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

 

 

“I’m going to see Donghyuck now,” Jeno says as soon as he’s woken up. Jaemin only faces him with bleary eyes. “Is it all right if you don’t come with me?” Jeno then asks.

“What?” Jaemin demands, his tone rising. “I thought I was the point of this whole endeavour you put yourself through.”

“I just… It doesn’t feel right to just show you to Donghyuck then leave, I think. I wanted to see him first then decide.”

“Without asking me?” Jaemin grumbles petulantly, crossing his arms with a pout. “Fine, you idiot. Go, but you have to come back.”

Jeno smiles widely. “Of course!”

 

 

Donghyuck shoves Jeno into the ground, nearly stepping on him if Jeno could tell by his sour expression, and it was in no small part thanks to Renjun that he doesn’t. “You had me worried sick, you stupid, stubborn cow!”

“I came home just fine,” Jeno protests weakly as he takes the hand Renjun offers him.

“I thought you would come home on the first night,” Donghyuck admits, now close to tears, “but it has been _days_. A lot could happen in a few days beyond the wall. And you didn’t even find the star.”

Jeno doesn’t miss how Renjun had kept close to Donghyuck the whole time, his hands probably firmly clasped together and hidden by the length of his sleeves. “I did,” he tells Donghyuck. “I found the star.”

“Where is it, then?”

“He’s in an inn in the marketplace,” Jeno explains.

At that, Donghyuck’s mouth twists. “He?” he echoes. “The star is a person?”

“It is! His name is Jaemin, and he's very beautiful,” Jeno goes on to say, faltering when Donghyuck keeps looking at him strangely.

“Jeno…” Donghyuck begins slowly, “you were always very gullible. It could just be someone pretending.”

Renjun nods at that, which had only served to make Jeno angry.

“I wanted to find the star so I could tell you I love you, Donghyuck,” Jeno says, enjoying the way Donghyuck’s face had gone from concerned to flustered. “I did, and I nearly died trying to bring it back to you.”

“I…” Donghyuck shares a look with Renjun, who had quickly dropped his eyes to the floor then stepped back, claiming he has work to do at the shop. Once he was gone and out of earshot, Donghyuck continues, “Jeno, when you were gone, I… I confessed to Renjun. It seems so very callous now that I know, and I’m sorry.”

Jeno lets out a laugh that to his ears sounded a lot like relief. “I’m sorry I made you worry,” he says. “And for nothing, it seems.”

“Not nothing,” Donghyuck tells him with a smile that Jeno returns. “You’ve changed somewhat. I’m also proud of you, you know. No one’s done a feat like you had.”

“Do you still love me more than anyone else?” Jeno teases, enjoying how Donghyuck blushes.

“I do, of course.” Donghyuck stretches out his arms so Jeno could embrace him, which he does.

“I wish you all the happiness with Renjun,” Jeno tells him. Donghyuck punches him on the shoulder but weakly.

“No wedding, unfortunately, so let me know if they do have beyond the wall. Now shoo.”

 

 

Sejeong cries out in joy when she opens the door and finds Jeno standing in front of her, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Doyoung reaches out for Jeno, too.

“This feels like goodbye,” Sejeong accuses him, at which Jeno only smiles.

Doyoung eyes him with a certain curiosity. “What happened back there?” he asks.

“Did you meet someone?” Sejeong then teases him.

“I… He wants to meet you,” Jeno tells them. “He’s back at the fair.”

At that, Doyoung urges him to go back. “We’ll meet him another time,” he says. “But for now, you must return to him.”

 

 

Jaemin tackles Jeno to the ground when he sees him, Jeno letting out a sharp exhale as his back hits the grass. “You were gone for so long,” Jaemin whines, making Jeno laugh.

“It was only a few hours.”

“And?”

“Were you going to go there to find me?”

“I was going to,” Jaemin says with a frown, “till I wondered why you were so surprised to find me back in the crater… The stars who fall on the other side of the wall turn into rocks.”

Jeno’s mouth falls open, and all he says is, “Oh.”

“I’m just glad you’re back.”

“Me, too.” Jeno reaches up to brush Jaemin’s hair back, the little strands that had fallen across his face. Most of Jaemin’s weight had settled on Jeno’s legs, but he finds he doesn’t mind, especially when Jaemin looks radiant smiling down at him. “I’ve been thinking.”

“This is indeed news,” Jaemin drawls.

“Donghyuck likes someone else.”

“That’s nice. Too bad for you, though.” Jaemin strokes Jeno’s hair, the touch soothing.

“That’s not—I’ve known it before, but seeing them together… I only felt happiness for him. And relief,” Jeno says while Jaemin hums. “I think I didn’t want to bring you with me because I wanted to keep you to myself.”

“Do you perhaps like me, Jeno?”

“I do, and I might have for a while.”

“I like you, too,” Jaemin says with a wide smile. “I feel like I’m being cursed.”

Jeno huffs, but Jaemin keeps him quiet with a kiss, tracing the curve of Jeno’s mouth with his tongue like he’s hungry, his hands all tangled in Jeno’s hair. It could go on forever, Jeno thinks, but someone eventually stops them with a clear of her throat, making Jaemin climb off of Jeno with his face an angry shade of red. He leaves Jeno breathing deeply while lying down on the grass as he faces the witch.

“He’ll break your heart, my little sweet one,” she says, her hair now brittle and grey, her skin sagging and wrinkled. “You’ll wish you’d given it to me.” Without another word, she leaves.

Jaemin turns to face Jeno and bursts into laughter. “Guess she isn’t a danger anymore.”

Jeno laughs, turning into a cough that makes Jaemin laugh even harder. “Be quiet.”

“Make me,” Jaemin drawls, then lets out a shout when Jeno pulls him back down then shifts their weight so Jeno lay on top of him, bringing their mouths together.

“I can spend the rest of the day like this,” Jeno says when he pulls away for air, leaning his body back down into the grass, and Jaemin comes to his side to trace the line of his jaw with a finger.

“We’ll get sunburnt,” Jaemin points out.

“What happened to our room?” Jeno asks.

“I thought you weren’t coming back! And you hadn’t made it clear then that you like me.”

“I went to see my parents,” Jeno tells him, “to tell them about you. I think you’ll meet them later when they stop by for the fair.”

Jaemin sticks his tongue out at him, quickly sucking it back in when Jeno looms closer and pretends to bite it off. He leans away from Jeno after a few moments, saying, “Someone else is coming,” then grumbling about not getting privacy in the meadow. “It’s the slave from the other witch’s caravan.”

“Was I disturbing you?” the slave asks with a wry smile on his face.

“A bit,” Jaemin tells him, which makes the slave laugh.

“Ah, I see. It’s an urgent matter, I’m afraid. My slave contract ended.” To prove his point, he lifts up his robes, revealing bare ankles. “I had a chain tied to me before, one that only broke if the terms of the contract have been met,” he explains. He lowers himself onto the grass to face Jeno and Jaemin more clearly. “You see, back in the caravan, I wanted to tell you who I was, but I couldn’t.”

“You can tell us now,” Jaemin urges.

“My name is Lee Taeyong,” he says. “Firstborn son of Lee Soo Man. I came to show Jeno his birthright.”

“How do you know who I am?” Jeno asks.

“I think I’d know my own son," Taeyong tells him dryly. "And the flower you gave to the witch… I gave it to your father a long time ago.”

“I thought it was Mother’s,” Jeno tells him.

“He got the idea eventually,” Taeyong says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s meant to protect you and give you luck.”

“What about the orchid?” Jeno asks, bringing it out from his clothes.

“I thought one day, you would be able to give it to a person you love,” Taeyong says. “Just as I gave it to you. Now, do you still have the jade ornament?”

Jeno produces the ornament from his pocket, the brilliant yellow turning green in his hands.

“All this time, you were a prince?” Jaemin demands. “I thought you were a simple village boy!”

“This ornament is the symbol of our family,” Taeyong explains. “Whoever holds it is meant to be the new ruler.”

Shaking his head, Jeno gives it to Taeyong. “I can’t, Father. You have to rule in my stead first,” he says, eyes flickering between Taeyong and Jaemin. “There is still a lot I don’t know, and I want to see the world with Jaemin.”

“Of course,” Taeyong says with a nod, “but don’t take too long. And give my regards to Kim Doyoung.”

 

***

 

“How do you feel?” Jaemin asks after he crawls into bed with Jeno. He wraps an arm around Jeno and kisses his neck, teasing him, “My king.”

“Stop it,” Jeno whines. “I’m not king until the coronation.”

“It’s in a month,” Jaemin reminds him. “Won’t you miss this?” It’s been two years of travelling throughout the land, making—perhaps too frequent—stops to just sit down and talk and kiss.

“I will, but not the dingy beds.”

“Of course. We’ll have a _palace_.”

“You like this a little too much,” Jeno accuses him, at which Jaemin only smiles.

“It’s no bath in your charming little village,” Jaemin says with a shrug, “but it will have to do.”

 

 

The morning of the coronation, Taeyong enters Jeno’s room, face flushed and bright. “Doyoung is here,” he declares. He fixes his robes and his hair, his big, round eyes looking even larger in his distress.

“Yes. I’m not surprised. So is Mother.” Jeno gets down from his bed, leaving a sleeping Jaemin behind, the glass orchid on the bedside table almost shimmering in the morning sun. “Come, I’ll introduce you to her. Don’t be shy.”

 

 

It’s the stuff of legend, Jeno’s long years as king. He lives till he’s withered then passes away quietly in his sleep, his ethereally beautiful partner right by his side, not looking a day older than since the day they first met. At night, the people of the palace could hear his footsteps climbing up the stairs to the roof, where Jaemin would lie down to gaze up at the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> [complaints desk](https://curiouscat.me/fractal)
> 
> but srsly if you made it to the end… please accept a cookie as thanks. I owe you one <3


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